Down the Worm Hole

between pixels and polaroids

crumpled edges and faded lines

they say she is mysterious

in a childlike way

where blueberries stain

her faint laced hem

as she traces lines

in the amber sand

to glimpse the mica shine

a mind that wanders and plucks

with lack of Zen or Tao

or any know-how

and that my friend

is what becomes of them

the ones who breathe

the dragon’s fire

and choose to remain

in innocence

.

© M.G. Iannucci 2018

To see for the first time in my life, who we truly are…a microcosm of the “universe” in love with itself. It defies logic.

I am you.

7 thoughts on “Down the Worm Hole

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